A Street I Know

Today I walked down a street I've known for years. 

Last time I was here I did not care. 

Though the hardness of the sidewalk 

Seems to welcome my boots..,

Glass buildings stand where once before 

Was paid parking...

New sculpture and color belie buildings 

Decades old, yet imposing as always. 

A grip I feel from my younger days

When parking fines and worn down 

Dress pants were things I was used to in so many ways. 

Old love it seems bursts forth today

To call home a son who'd gone far away. 

Imparting comfort and strength held just back for me

And cutting a rope to watch me break free

A Hammer

A hammer is a violent thing,
Meant for force, a strike.
With blunt and powerful subjugation.

To strike something so wrought, unuseful.

Until...

With spark and noise,
And hits, oh such hits.
A new form takes shape,
With edge refined.

A sharp thing.
A strong thing.
A new thing.

Unbent, smoothened and ready,
With undoubted purpose.

A Man, His Grass, Rain Bird, and Bardo

There are 31 days in July.
There are 31 days in August.
Have you ever wondered why
The hottest damn months are the longest?

My grass lays withered and yellow
While clinging to earth that's splitting and cracked.

No rain. None.
It was a wet and rainy Spring,
Now consider the opposite.

And here I am, I'm that guy.
That guy holding his hose.
Watering...with his hose.
In a neighborhood where every house
Has a sprinkler system.

There are shrubs too.
They wilt as I wet them down.
Leaning, and seeming to say...
"Thanks, but it's too late."

Oh, I have a sprinkler system too.
Oh yes, I do.  Rain Bird.
The best there is.  Fucking broke.
Broke by the broken soil.

Each leaf, each blade,
Looks up to me to plead....
"Save us!, Oh save us from this!...
You- Man holding your hose!...
Don't let us die!"

Resigned I sit in my yellow grass, indian style,
Holding my hose in one hand and my phone in the other...
Wearing my damn bathrobe.

I flip through my contacts and find Bardo the yard guy,
Who does not speak english.
"Bardo come manana, Manana ayudame para Rain Bird."
He takes cash only, that part was great english.

Wisdom

I am the voice of many voices,
A watcher in the trees.
I turn your head when you make choices,
Like comfort in a breeze.

I love you and I bode you well,
Invisible in air so thin.
A gentleman I am, you know,
You must ask and invite me in.

So many times I've called to you,
And beckoned for your ears.
You may have heard my pleading cry,
I flooded you with tears.
But I saw your face just while I spoke....
You ran from me with all your fears.

I live, and live, and live again!
I'll grace your forehead with a crown.
Fine measurements I keep of all,
I know each elder in every town.

A fool you'd be to deny me,
I'm marrow of your bones.
I hold in me a silent might,
With me you'll carry many stones.

I long for you to draw me near,
Please do not turn away.
If you have an ear to hear,
Dark night you'll see like day.

Love

Snow - You could say I most resemble snow.
Not cold, but somehow warm, and silent.
So silent.

I fall to you, upon you.
I am light, and without stain.

A revelation I am, to you.
When you come to know me I have already been here quite some time.
While you awaken to me, with the snow covered dawn.

I have been expecting you.

A reconciliation I am, to you.
For you.
And, with me everything makes sense.
You make sense.

Purpose I bring,
And legacy I give.
Fulfill your days my friend,
Get out your plow.
I have given you a real reason to live.

What We Do

What you see is what you get

At least you’re used to that notion.

Along the horizon the sun may set

But you just see the surface of the ocean.

All visions we have are superficial

And we can talk for hours and hours.

What stirs beneath our grand façade

Consumes our thoughts and all our powers.

No, what measures us and keeps us true

Can only be known by what we do.

Again

There is no wall,

Or stone,

Or pain.

That would stop me 

From doing,

For you all that I'd do.

For you.

Again.

And again.

The hurt I could give,

And give,

And give,

Again.

To you,

To you,

To you,

To you.

Just so you'll know,

And learn,

Recall and hear,

And then know, again,

And then again, 

My dear.

I am your wall,

Your stone,

And your pain.

And in your hand I dwell,

Yet you throw me down,

Again.

And again.

Why (Fill in the blank)

It would be impossible
To explain myself to you,
But I'm going to try.

What you need to know
Is that you're _______,
And I'm tired of trying
To figure out why.

Memorial Day

I tug this rope to hoist up high

Our flag up on this pole,

And hear the trumpet down the hill

So solemnly call roll.

It is we all so recognize

A symbol made by hand,

But we’re all so much likened to

This marker of our land.

I, like you, do understand

This banner’s silent power

At times we’ve rallied ‘round

In our darkest hour.

All the time I had but cursed

And toiled to strive but free,

Was all on purpose held to be

My God’s design for me.

I fly this flag up high for all

So proudly in the sun,

And bow my head to His great power

I am my Father’s son.

Skipping Stones

First throw
A skip and another skip.

Second throw
A skip and a bounce.

Next throw

All the way across the pond….

Next throw

That was the best stone I’ve found.

Again

Just throwing.

And again

As hard as I can…

One more time

Damn rock.

Have to throw again

That one was ugly.

Again

I’m sorry.

Again

Why?

Again

Because.

Standing on the shore I gaze out…

Again

Because I can’t help it.

Again

Why can’t I help it?

Again

It’s all I know.

Again, damnit

Because it’s love.

Ugly jagged rock, again

All the way across the pond.

Standing on the shore, I look up.

Again

All the way across the pond.

The King's Sleep

The passing day was filled with talk
And many points so deftly made
Now float above me standing here
While resting in the evening shade.

I sit right down and contemplate
Such matters as they stand
And think it may just serve me best
To sleep to understand.

In sleep I often wake to things
Awake I cannot see
And calculate so many things
Today were lost on me.

And read between the lines to know
More than what was really said
Talk to myself, remind myself
Without problems I am dead.

Amazed I am when I'm asleep
I have such mighty power
I'll write a speech, do complex math
Or plan my day by hour.

Though I'm asleep I see myself
As someone looking in
To my own world from just outside
At ease in my own skin.

When morning comes the cloud
Which floated round me yesterday
I hold deep in my fist so tight
And rule for one more day.

Field of Dreams

Behind me I can hear them speak.
And if not words, then doubt,

A certain tale or outcome forth,
And even if I'd shout...

Would not entrust them to just heed
Truth lost on all but some.

A tallest tree was once a seed.
If you build it they will come.

No Longer There

When something was there
But is no longer there,
You become suddenly aware
That it is not there.

Where, before, when it was there,
You did not seem to care.
And so now you are aware,
For its absence you did not prepare.

Because, had you been aware
That it would no longer be there,
And knew how it felt
To be aware it was no longer there,

You would go back to prepare,
For all which would be.
Today, as you feel how you feel,
Now that it's no longer there.

Sand

I tried to hold some sand today.
And scooped it up into my fist.
I clenched so tight to hold it in,
But sand won't stay in a fist.

At first my fist was tight and strong,
The sand did not dispute with me.
Then a grain came out to see the light,
My hand was just not right, you see.

And then some more seeped out.
My grip was strong just as before.

But the truth is....

One can hold up sand just for a time,
But not for all that much more.

Love Has a Memory All Its Own

She always made the meal for me,

Mac and cheese and chicken fried.

Years have passed since she has gone,

And there’s none better that I’ve tried.

The kids up there can’t hold a tune,

The high school concert’s hard to bear.

I lose my track of time all day,

But when it’s time – for her – I’ll be there.

I may forget to pay a bill,

Or feed the cat,

But when I head out the door to go work,

I will always kiss you still.

There are many things that take my thoughts.

And through all time my dear I’ve known.

That I may lose track of many things,

But love has a memory all its own.

Bird Territory

Into the woods I go,
Below tall trees
and through the snow.
Bright white while I squint.

I'm the loudest thing around,
according to the birds.
And they watch me like the impostor I am,
small chirps with a hostile sound.

Since You Were Very Small

I am aware of what you say of me

I know the same things every day

I hope that one day you will see

That you and me think the same way.

It takes one to know one

And I know because I've been there too

It doesn't make a difference only because

I have felt the same things you do too.

For some reason I can't explain

I feel what you feel

And I feel too your pain

I chalk it up to some psychic power

But it gives me nothing to wield

Except the weight of knowing

Your truth revealed.

I wish you could just give up

And know I adore you

And that you have finally grown up

And I have to help you.

To make you be all,

Be all you can be.

To have control and make a difference

And know with you,

you hold the key.

To know the way of the world,

And men and women and all their intents.

And keep your own flag unfurled

And your fortunes unspent.

Because you are my child

and carry my love

And all that I have taught you,

Even when push has come to shove.

You are my greatest hope

And I can't control you.

Even if you were bound by rope,

Good Lord ropes would not hold you.

I hope from me you learn the truth,

The truth about yourself.

That deep down inside is something.

There lies something more, a stubborn thing,

A thing you can't ignore.

And great things to this world

you will have the power to bring.

Whatever you call it

Or, from whomever you give credit for inheriting,

You are glad it's there

To pry, to whisper, and keep you aware.

That, despite yourself and how you feel,

you must keep on going and give your all.

At least that's what I hope and pray,

and that's all I have been doing

since you were very small.

The Boardroom

Made to hold us all

Soft chairs lined arm to arm

A dark stained wood table

And smoked glass in the hall.

We meet on time each week

Exchange opinions, with some asserting

Solve a problem or just waste hours

True selves show forth- some strong, some meek.

The Boardroom is a vestibule

Where people go to deal with things

Communicate and trade hard facts

Where rank applies and egos rule.

Some things are heard and some ignored

With some who blab and are not stopped

God do something, please shut them up

And….then there’s those who are bored.

The one who’s heard the most, you see

Speaks last…….

And owns the facts and keeps the rules

And speaks with sure authority.